


To Cope or Not to Cope

by Awkwardly_social



Series: The Nomenclature Series [2]
Category: Voltron: Legendary Defender
Genre: Drowning, Gen, Gore, Hallucinations, Lance (Voltron) Whump, Lance (Voltron) is a Mess, Lance gets his happy ending, Langst, Mind Melding, Only one scene but its kinda descriptive, Panic Attacks, Sequel, i guess?, lance centric
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-01-28
Updated: 2017-04-27
Packaged: 2018-09-20 11:51:48
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 5
Words: 6,825
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9489875
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Awkwardly_social/pseuds/Awkwardly_social
Summary: Though Lance has returned to the castle after the events of Nomenclature those five months are not forgotten so easily. Together he and his friends must work through the mass of problems and traumas that still plague the blue paladin and help him learn, to cope or not to cope?(Author's note: Though it has now been revealed that Lance is actually Cuban this fic was written before that and so for the sake of keeping the plot the way it is he will remain Mexican. Any fics I write in the future however he will be Cuban. I would also recommend reading the first part of the series for everything to make sense.)





	1. Hoarding

Lance knew that things were going to be different when he returned to the castle. The planet had made its mark, both physically and mentally, on the blue paladin, and they were more akin to scars than wounds. They would fade, but never disappear. Lance never really knew how deeply the experience had ingrained itself into his soul until Hunk had brought up the first of ‘issues’ that would surface after his return.

* * *

 

After exiting the cryopod, the more recent of his wounds closed, Lance had felt better. The others had greeted him with open arms and warm words, even laughing about the vines that had worked their way around his waist. He’d blushed and scratched fingers through longer hair, grimacing at the oily texture he hadn’t been able to notice before.

“Hey, Coran? Know a place where a guy can get a haircut around here?”

Coran had laughed and done the job himself, trimming off matted locks in the bathroom not long after. He’d left after that and Lance showered, washing five months off his skin. He took a moment to look himself over. The scars had faded in the pod and all his wounds had healed over. He’d returned to a slightly healthier weight as well thanks to the pod’s nourishment. Only pale stripes, bumps, and mottled skin remained. It didn’t feel like he had been rescued though. In the back of his mind Lance knew he wasn’t better, that the nightmares, the forest, wouldn’t leave.

Allura had met him after he was cleaned, leading him to an Altean greenhouse; a place to raise the Allura’s Whisper he’d brought back with him. He’d thanked her and begun, gently arranging the vines around a large rock he hoped would work for his purposes. The vines had taken easily enough and he’d returned to his room for the first time in what seemed an eternity.. With nothing left to do, sleep came to him easily.

* * *

Lance dreamt that he was drowning. Stuck at the bottom of a gray lake and the weight of the water crushing his chest. He flailed and gasped but the watery figures of his friends never moved as the slush filled his lungs, only watched as the light faded and he sunk.

When Lance woke up he panicked at first, something was keeping him down, holding him, couldn’t breathe, dying **dying.** He shoved the weight off of his chest and scrambled for his knife. The warm press against his side and the accompanying grumble had him freezing and turning his head slowly.

“Churro?!”

“Mrow.”

“Churro!” Panic forgotten, Lance lunged forward, wrapping his arms around his friend’s neck and hugging him closely. “Oh, buddy you scared me.” He pulled back, wagging a finger at green eyes. “I could have really hurt you, don’t do that again.” The look Lance is met with is something along the lines of ‘yea right,' but he smiles anyway. He slid off the bed and moved to change his clothes into the ones he brought from earth. The smell relaxed him as much as his hand on Churro’s head did. Together the two trekked out of the room towards the kitchen.

Only Coran was in the kitchen, prepping something that for once didn’t look too unappetizing. “Hey Coran.” Coran had turned around, the beginning of a greeting on his lips before he shrieked and hid behind the table.

“Lance, back away very slowly, that thing is dangerous.”

Lance glanced around, absentmindedly scratching behind Churro’s ears. “What thing?”

Coran’s eyes widened comically, “The thing you’re scratching! It ate all my harken meat! We haven’t been able to track it down until now.”

“Churro’s harmless Coran." Lance crouched down, letting the Hunks-hug lick his cheek for emphasis. “I’ll make sure he doesn’t get into your meat again though.” He clicked at Churro and they moved to lay down in a corner, dozing off without a care. “Anyway, what’cha making?”

Coran moved out from behind the table, cautiously eyeing the creature in the corner before turning back to Lance. “This, is an old Altean dish that I managed to scrape up. Care to try some?”

Lance nodded vigorously, sitting at the table when Coran set a small plate down and left Lance to his own devices. The dish was actually a few squishy looking piles with some solid bits that looked a bit like grapes and tomatoes on the side. He dug in, pausing at the off taste of fried chicken before eating all the soft parts. If he happened to slip some of the more solid pieces into his coat nobody would notice.

* * *

The same thing would continue for two weeks. Lance would eat what he couldn’t keep, then store what he could. It was only a little here, a little there. It wasn’t like anybody would notice. Until they did.

Hunk had only come into Lance’s room to check on him. Nobody had seen him that morning and they’d grown concerned, voting to send Hunk in as not to spook Lance in case something _was_ up. What he’d seen when he opened Lance’s door had shocked him. Lance was shoving food into a drawer, a strange glaze resting over his eyes. Hunk’s voice was barely a whisper when he called out. “Lance?”

Lance whipped around, shock evident in his eyes quickly turning protective, no, possessive. “Get out.”

“What? No.” Hunk moved forward slowly, remembering to call out to Shiro over his shoulder as he continued. “Lance have you been hoarding food?”

“Get out.” Lance’s words were more of a growl than a command. He pulled his knife out, (from where Hunk would never know and Lance would never share) the edge glinting with a threat as Lance held it like he was ready to leap. It was at this time Keith and Shiro made their way into the door frame, pausing just behind Hunk and taking in the situation.

Keith leaned toward Shiro, whispering as he kept his eye on the blue paladin, now glancing between the three of them, knife poised to attack. “Shiro what’s wrong with him?”

Hunk answered without turning. “He’s been hoarding food and now he won’t let anyone near it.”

Shiro put a hand on Hunk’s shoulder, pulling him back as he himself moved forward. “Lance, it’s okay. We’re not going to take your food. But you don’t need to hoard anymore. You’re not on the planet anymore, it’s okay.”

The words seemed to relax Lance a little, and he lowered the knife just a hair. It only lasted for a moment before Keith moved forward, “He’s not an animal Shiro, he has no reason to-“

As Keith passed an invisible barrier Lance lunged, swinging the knife and grazing Keith’s shoulder as he flinched back to fall slightly against Hunk. “Lance?”

Keith flinched again at his, admittedly _friend’s_ , response. “Mine.”

Shiro resumed his calming words and Hunk nudged Keith out the door, “You might want to stay here. You kind of put off an aggressive vibe and I think that’s what Lance needs the least right now.” The two stood just outside the doorway, watching as Shiro inched closer.

As Shiro leaned a bit too close the knife swung again, freezing in midair as Lance gasped. The others looked down to see Churro, his tail wrapped gently around Lance’s leg just above the knee. Lance shuddered and the glaze faded from his eyes. “Guys?” He crumpled to the floor, pressing his face into Churro’s flank as he apologized. “I’m so sorry, I didn’t mean it, god I’m sorry.”

A warm hand pressed against Lance’s shoulder gently, “It’s okay Lance. We understand. It makes sense that some of your habits and the survival instincts would stick with you. Five months was a long time and it doesn’t disappear in a day. Trust me, I know.” He crouched down, gently taking Lance’s wrist and pulling him up to his feet before returning the fingers to the boy’s shoulder. Because that’s all he was. A boy not even twenty yet who’s had to face horrors and responsibility that would break the strongest of people. “Why don’t we go relax in the common room and let Hunk and Keith clean up the food? I know a really good Altean cartoon that Coran and Allura managed to translate for us that we could watch to help keep your mind off things.”

Lance nodded silently, though smiling a little as his hand settle on the back of Churro’s neck reflexively. The two made their way down the hall and out of sight, leaving Hunk and Keith behind. Hunk moved toward the drawer, opening it fully and blanching a little at how much food Lance had stored. It was filled to the brim, and some of it looked less than desirable. As he began to remove the various parts Hunk sighed to himself. Hopefully this would be the only habit Lance brought back with him. He hated to see his friend suffer.


	2. Panic

Though it took time, Lance eventually managed to work his way out of the habit of conserving food. Through stern looks followed with gentle reassurance, he felt himself cut off a small piece of the forest that had attached itself under his skin. Even as he felt the small flicker of joy knowing he had improved, guilt still pulled him back.

He hadn’t been honest with Shiro when he’d asked what happened a few days afterward. Lance had smiled and tried to reassure the man (and himself) that he was fine.

Shiro’s hands were tucked in his lap then. He looked scared, and it looked strange on his leader, usually so brave. Lance didn’t want to think about whether he was scared **for** Lance or scared **of** him. Shiro had made Lance look him in the eyes. “I need you to talk to me Lance.”

Lance had smiled, shaky, but solid enough that he kept trying. “I’m not really sure.” Not a lie, not the truth either though. How was he supposed to tell someone that his teammates had turned into creatures with sharp teeth and violent colors before his very eyes? Or that sometimes he couldn’t breathe and fell to the floor and the only thing that got him under control was to smoke until he couldn’t think straight but his lungs would relax. They’d call him crazy. He cast his eyes down. “I won’t let it happen again.”

Arms embraced his shoulders and Lance shoved down the urge to fight back at the constricting contact. “God no Lance you’re not in trouble. You’d never be in trouble for something like that, it was out of your control.”

Lance let his forehead drop onto the shoulder in front of him, forcing himself to go limp in the embrace. Lance didn’t notice he’d started to shake until one of Shiro’s hand rubbed circles along his back to calm him. Lance had pulled back then with a mutter of ‘I’m fine.’

Shiro kept one hand on his shoulder when he spoke again. “I know you haven’t told me everything Lance. But I also know that we’re not exactly the closest. I want you to do something for me, something that I’ve been doing for a while.”

Lance had nodded his head warily, he wasn’t really sure where this was going. “I want you to do some therapy sessions with Coran.”

“What?” Lance looked at Shiro, disbelief marring his features. Talking about how an ink blob made him feel wasn’t going to fix him.

“I’m serious.” Shiro’s eyes quieted the younger paladin’s protests, forcing him to sit silently. “I just want you to talk to him for an hour or so maybe once or twice a week. Take it from me, it helps.”

Lance had nodded his head, though reluctantly, and that was how he’d found himself in the situation he was now.

* * *

 

Talking to Coran admittedly had helped some. It was nice to be able to share some of what happened without pity or the listener looking like there was something wrong with him. Coran just listened, sometimes writing things down. For the first couple of weeks it had been helpful. Coran had only responded when Lance had paused, running out of things say by gently prodding him along with new subjects.

On the third week their session had started late, they were still fighting to save the universe and the Galra didn’t wait for anyone. Only half an hour into the conversation Lance had gotten up to train with the gladiator. They had scheduled solo training now just to make sure that even when the team couldn’t train together everybody still got their practice in.

“Where are you going?”

Lance had turned back towards Coran from the door. “Time to go train with the gladiator. We’re supposed to everyday if universe business doesn’t get in the way, remember?”

Coran stood up walking out the door with Lance trailing behind as he spoke. “Of course I remember, I came up with the idea young paladin. I think your mind takes precedence over your body right now though. However I believe you would argue with me thus you’re going to train at a level lower than what you are currently and we’ll hold your session simultaneously.”

Lance didn’t feel like arguing. What harm could it do anyway?

When the entered the training room Coran had taken a seat on the floor next to the door that closed and locked behind them. (It was best that nobody walked in unsuspecting and got a face full of gladiator.) He’d called out to the ceiling for level four and begun, dodging and shooting where he could as he and Coran spoke. It was almost relaxing until he’d turned to answer Coran and he was knocked off his feet.

His head cracked on the floor and the gladiator’s staff pressed into his throat. Coran’s shout of alarm from the side faded away just like the walls around Lance. He was back on the planet and the alpha Hunks-hug had caged him in under its tentacles, tail wrapped around his throat and he couldn’t breathe. He struggled and screamed but nothing would come out, kicking at the beast above him. Suddenly it backed away, fading off as a voice called from the distance. Something grasped at his shoulders. The forest faded away and Lance began to process Coran’s words as he held him.

“Lance I need you to calm down. You’re safe but you’re hyperventilating and you could really hurt yourself if your breathing doesn’t slow down. Come on Lance you can beat this I believe in you.”

As the words registered Lance reached towards the pouch he’d decided to keep on hand slung around his hip. He struggled to open it as his hands shook and his vision edged with black. Coran backed off and sat nearby, still talking, though watching what Lance was doing. His eyes narrowed when Lance pulled out a pre-rolled Allura’s Whisper, lighting the end with an Altean fire-starter and smoking with fervor.

Coran stopped speaking, and Lance let the chemical force his body to relax, calming his lungs and his mind, pulling them under metaphorical water. He pulled a second out after the first was burnt too short to hold but Coran stopped him from lighting it with a hand on his wrist. “I assure you that I don’t have to explain that while it may be fun and overall harmless to smoke your flowers every now and then, having an emotional or physical dependence on recreational drugs is unhealthy.”

Coran pulled Lance to his feet, leading him to the healing pods after gesturing to his neck. Lance figured it must be a nasty shade of greenish purple by now. Before Lance stepped in Coran stopped him once more. “Oh, and Lance? We’ll be talking about your hallucinations later. That’s definitely something that should have been shared, if not with the team then at least with me. You know I wasn’t going to share anything we said in that room unless it was an emergency.”

Lance frowned. “What do you mean ‘wasn’t?”

Coran looked Lance in the eyes and he remembered that he wasn’t just a fun loving and goofy man, Coran had been a soldier. “Hallucinations and some of your other symptoms could be a danger to you and the team if we aren’t careful. I’m not going to share specifics Lance but the whole team needs to help you. Just the two of us aren’t going to be able to help you confront this and move on, especially if you refuse to open up entirely.”

Lance sighed and looked away. “Okay. Just, hold on. How about this, you don’t tell the team and I give you my journal.”

Coran arched an eyebrow. “And why would I agree to that?”

“You said I can’t hide things from you anymore.” Coran nodded, urging the boy to continue. “Every day at the end of the day I logged what happened to me on the planet. Every day. It was something I’d hoped you guys would read in case I… didn’t make it.”

Coran frowned, it would be valuable to know exactly what had happened to the blue paladin. “Very well. But for now you need let the pod do its work.”

Lance complied, stepping back into the machine. “The book is under my bed to the right hidden underneath some furs I brought back with me.”

Coran nodded and pressed a button. The door closed and Lance felt a familiar darkness pull him under. Perhaps he wouldn’t ever get better.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks for reading! Updates will probably be sporadic but I managed to crank out a couple chapters this weekend somehow :3 Drop a comment and let me know what you think so far.


	3. Fight or Flight?

Coming out of the healing pod was always a disorienting experience. Lance fell forward as he had many times before, this time falling to the floor on his knees as the typical press of a warm body was absent. Lance shook his head and stood up, looking around in confusion. Where was everybody? Usually there was at least Coran.

As Lance pulled himself up he heard the door open. "Dude we are **so** sorry." Hunk came to his side and helped prop his friend up, turning Lance slightly to show him Coran running in with Churro not far behind. Lance scrunched his nose, "Why does Churro have a harness?"

Coran beamed, clearly eager to explain. "Well Lance, Churro here is going to be your guidance creature."  He moved forward and his tone moved to a more serious one, "I had to tell somebody about your issue Lance, so I told who I believed is your closest friend. Hunk assisted me in coming up with a solution to help you get through your problems. Hunk identified what you've been experiencing as a human version of battle-fever. I believe he called it PTSD."

Lance nodded along, he could live with Hunk knowing. Hunk took over the conversation as Coran tailed off. “We thought that maybe getting you something like a guide dog could help you, something to keep you tied down to where you are or to alert the group if you’re having an episode, and then we saw Churro.”

Lance sat back down on the floor, inviting Churro to curl next to him as he stroked his flank. “I guess that makes sense. How are you going to train him though? He’s not exactly a dog born and bred for this kind of job, and what would you train him to do?”

Hunk and Coran sat down on the steps and Coran explained, “I would recommend you tell your team about your problems Lance, however if this is still not your wish this is the plan we have devised. We will train your friend here to stay with you at all times and to take commands such as sit, stay, and follow. He will also be taught to notify us if you have an episode through calling out as well as what motions to go through to keep you calm and safe until somebody can get to you.”

Lance frowned, but agreed with a gentle nod. “Alright. And he already knows some stuff just from when he was with me. Here, watch.” Lance gently nudged Churro, urging the animal to wake up from where it had dozed off. “Churro, sit.” Churro followed the command as closely as they could tell with its tentacles. Lance pointed to a corner, “Churro, lie down.” Churro stood and flopped down in the indicated corner, returning to sleep. “He stays if I tell him but he usually follows me around to begin with.”

Coran was about to reply before Allura came over the castles intercom. “Paladins, we believe Pidge may have found their brother. Please come to the control room immediately to discuss a plan of action.”

The three stood and made their way out the door, Lance only just remembering to call Churro from the corner and have him follow the group.

* * *

 

Lance entered the room, avoiding the confused glances of the others as they noticed the harness on Churro. Shiro seemed to be the only one who clicked on its purpose, offering Lance a small smile and nod of approval.

The group gathered around Pidge and Allura, quietly awaiting an explanation. Allura gestured for Pidge to begin. Pidge glanced up from their laptop where they sat on the floor as they spoke. “With the tracking system I created out of the data I downloaded from some of the Galra computers I decrypted some code which by the way is very complicated and frustrating but Matt’s name came up-“

  
“Pidge.”

Pidge cast Shiro a look of irritation before they summarized. “I think I found Matt. The Princess says that it’ll only take the equivalent of a couple hours to reach the ship and get him back. I really want him back guys.”

Lance stepped forward immediately, glancing around the circle. “I’m in. I know what it feels like to miss family Pidge. I’ll do whatever it takes to help you get yours back.”

The next to step forward were Keith and Hunk, then Shiro. Allura clapped her hands together. “Alright, let’s discuss our plans, then we make our move.”

* * *

 

The plan was simple enough, Keith, Hunk, and Lance would split up and move down the three hallways the prisoners were being kept in, making as much noise and chaos as possible to draw away the guards. They would draw them all together at the end of a connected corridor to prevent anyone from getting singled out. Pidge and Shiro would follow behind and open up the doors to free the prisoners as quickly as possible, keeping an eye out for Matt. It had seemed simple, but things never go according to plan, do they?

It had started off well enough. The team had taken the green lion down with the upgraded cloaking abilities and Lance alongside Hunk and Keith had exited, splitting up as they moved through their respective halls. Lance had shot the droids he had seen and called out to any who could have been down the hall. “Here kitty kitty! Come and get me!” A few drones and a Galra had followed him and he’d led them out of the hallway towards the meeting point, smiling as he saw that Keith and Hunk were already taking on their own guards and appeared to be winning.

Lance turned around, summoning his bayard and began shooting droids, taking them out one by one. He began to grow concerned as more seemed to pile in from seemingly nowhere though and the group was getting separated. No, he was getting separated. He called out through his helmet to the others. “Hunk, Keith, are you guys noticing that there are a lot more robots than there were before? Because I think they’re trying to separate us.”

Keith responded around the sounds of his sword meeting metal, “Yeah I noticed. Hunk and I have managed to stay close, I can’t see you anymore though. Where are you?”

Lance shot a droid that had gotten a little too close before ducking behind his shield. “I think I’m around the corner but there’s too many!” Lance fired a spray of ammunition in a desperate attempt to push the enemy back, but it only seemed to spawn more. A Galra came forward out of the line and Lance took aim, but a bolt caught him in the shoulder as he was distracted, forcing him back in to the corner. Lance shook his head to clear the black spots that had invaded his vision from the burns. He tried to summon his shield and it failed. A purple hand shoved him into the corner, forcing his shoulders inwards toward one another, restricting his breathing.  

The Galra smiled and Lance flinched at the pointed teeth. “I’m going to take pleasure in killing you paladin. Zarkon will surely promote me if I ensure your demise.”

Lance felt the blanket of terror and something else begin to wash over him. “No. No no. No no nononono-“

The sounds of concerned teammates didn’t register as he began to hyperventilate The Galra sank his claws into Lance’s chest plate restricted him further. Lance’s ribs began to scream as something cracked and the other hand wrapped around his throat, and drawing five small trails of blood. Lance didn’t feel claws, he felt the teeth like he had twice before. He saw a bright blue petals and a gray body. Lance’s temporary paralysis disappeared and he struggled, kicking out with his feet and flailing his limbs the best he could. His bayard was changing into a long dagger without a thought and as it would later be agreed between Keith and Lance, all hell broke loose.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks for reading! Sorry about it taking so long for the update. Drop me a comment about what you think so far or if you have suggestions! I promise you I read every single one.


	4. A Monster's Hope

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Hey guys, gals, and non binary pals! Sorry for not updating in so long, but here it is! As you can see there's only one chapter left after this one and I'll try to get it up as soon as I can. Thanks for waiting :3

Keith flinched when a scream echoed through the hallways. It came from where Lance had been separated, and he feared the worse when screeching metal reached his ears. Keith shoved his sword through the last sentry around him, trusting Hunk to handle himself as he bolted around the corner. Keith gasped and turned to the side to throw up at the gruesome sight.

He didn’t notice Lance at first. What he did notice was the piles of sentries, their circuits ripped open at the throat and the body on the floor. He assumed it used to be a galra, but it was difficult to tell. The eyes had been raked to shreds, long gashes covering its face tearing the flesh. Several teeth were cracked and broken, and they were new breaks if the blood was any indication. The worst was how often he’d been stabbed. Keith estimated there were no less than seven holes torn through his armor, the alien organs pushing through the gaps with yellow blood sluggishly leaking out to form a pool on the ground. The final blow must have been his throat though. There was almost nothing of it left.

Keith wiped his mouth, then took another look around the area. “Lance!” Finally he took notice of his teammate. Lance was leaned up against a wall, holding… his bayard? The knife was maybe seven or eight inches long, but the blue, double edged blade shone dangerously. “Lance?” Keith remembered his last encounter with a frightened Lance, cautiously making his way forward with his hands up in what he hoped was a non threatening gesture.

Lance glanced up, growling lowly and pressing a hand to his ribs as his breathing began to stutter. “Lance I need you to come back to me buddy. We had a bonding moment. We make a great team, but we can’t work together if you’ve gone a little feral on me. It’s my job to be the angry one, and you’re allowed to angry don’t get me wrong, but I think you’re hurt and I need to help you.” As he spoke Lance seemed to calm down, the panic in the air blending into pain.

“It hurts Keith. I think he broke a rib or two.” Keith nearly cried in relief. He crouched down next to Lance, helping him stand with slowly as Pidge spoke over the comm..

“Guys! I found him! Let’s get out of here!”

Keith smiled and turned to Lance to see his reaction, but only a pale face met him. “D-did I do that?”

Lance’s gaze was cast over the scene that had made Keith sick earlier. Keith ushered him along, pulling him around the corner and letting Hunk take up Lance’s other side. “Don’t worry about it Lance.”

“No! What? Keith I… I’m a monster. Who does that?”

Hunk took to practically carrying Lance and Keith let him go. “Who does what? Guys what happened?

Keith looked away as the green lion’s mouth came into view. Lance visibly shuddered. “I ripped somebody apart because I couldn’t keep my head together.” As they settled themselves at the back of the cockpit and Pidge took off Lance continued. “He pressed me in a corner and instead of just shooting him I saw the Maria’s cobra and I ripped him apart.” He turned to where Pidge was piloting and Shiro was standing, their attention on him with concern in their eyes. Warm tears ran down his face, but they were stained pink when the hit his hands. “I was so scared my bayard turned into a knife.” He looked around him, only then noting the slumped boy in the corner, but ignoring him. “How am I supposed to be a paladin of Voltron when I can’t go five minutes without panicking?”

They didn’t answer, and Lance lowered his gaze to his lap, eyebrows rising as Hunk threw an arm over his shoulder. Keith patted his knee awkwardly and Shiro came to sit in front of him. “Lance.”

Lance looked up from under tear wet eyelashes. “Blue chose you. You are the blue paladin and no PTSD is going to stop you.” Shiro smiled, a hint of that fatherly tone coming out. “Besides, what would we do without our sharpshooter?”

Lance smiled brighter than he had in months.

* * *

 

Lance dropped out of the healing pod, laughing a bit as Pidge grunted under his weight. “Don’t laugh you dork. Stand on your own!”

He rearranged his feet a little before leaning harder on Pidge. “Oh no, I think something is wrong with the ships gravity! It must be increasing!”

“Laaaaaaannce!”

The blue paladin chuckled before standing on his own and ruffling Pidge’s hair. “Hey Pidgey.”

“Alright, now that you’re not trying to crush me with your dorky references, I wanted to show you something. The team figured you’d handle having one person better than all of us so come and sit down.” She walked over to a pile of pillows and blankets and patted the spot next to her, opening up her laptop.

Lance glances to his left, noting Pidge’s brother was in the pod next to his. He turned away and plopped down to look at the screen, cocking his head to the side when he only saw Altean words. Pidge pressed a few buttons and the language turned to English. Pointing to a section of data she spoke. “This is Gwitesh. I was looking some Altean data logs to try and find something to help both you and Shiro with your PTSD and I came across the planet.”

Lance glanced at the picture of an orange and green planet, nodding along warily. “Okay? I’m listening.”

Pidge grinned. “The native species there? They specialize in helping repair various forms of mental damage, including trauma. They’re basically psycic.” She looked down, her smile pulling down into a grimace. “It… won’t be an instant fix. But, the logs here say that they basically help you handle some of the more extreme side effects by going into your mind and doing some mental voodoo to ‘sever the strings of the mind tied to the past in order to move forward.’ If you want, I’ll talk to Allura about dropping by and seeing if they can help you.”

Pidge yelped as Lance tugged her forward into his chest, resting his chin on her head. “Thank you, Pidge.”

She chuckled as he let her go, readjusting her glasses. “I’ll take that as a yes. I’ll go let the princess know.”

Standing up, they left the room together but went in separate directions. (Lance chose not to notice the longing look Pidge gave back towards the pods). As Pidge walked to the control deck Lance walked back to his room, laughing as Churro seemed to come out of nowhere and nuzzle against his hand, keeping pace. He’d only just realized it, but everybody on the team knew about his problems now, and nobody had judged him. Nobody had looked on him with pity or called him a monster. Maybe they weren’t the same as his family back home, but they were family none the less.

Lance dreamt of mermaids and beaches that night, not a nightmare to be heard of.


	5. To Cure a Soul

As Lance watched the Gwiteshian paint the last few blue markings down his arms, torso, and across his face, he began to feel a little skeptical. Allura had assured him of the people’s medical ways and how an old Altean alliance saw the trade of spiritual services for physical supplies. Still, he was a little iffy on the whole magic thing, especially considering he was being painted by a giant green bipedal cat with orange spots.  He remembered Pidge though, and if Pidge thought this could help him he was willing to give it a shot. Anything to keep him from being a burden to the team.

He was pulled from his thoughts as the alien, (Kit, his mind supplied him, recalling that it was to be their designated name as their true one was unpronounceable to humans,) grunted at him. Kit held their hands up and gently asked him to touch his hands to their own at the fingertips. Somehow it was only then he noticed the paint was drawn in a mirror pattern of Kit’s fur markings. Gently he pressed his fingers to theirs, the imprint of glowing green eyes stamped behind his eyelids as his sight faded to black.

Lance woke up lying on his back, the ground beneath him giving slightly like dirt. He sat up, rubbing a hand over his eyes as he took in the scene around him. The area was half lit with a blue glow, and as his gaze adjusted he gasped. Maybe twenty or so feet in front of him lay a blue crystal that must have been twice his own height. It was rounded like it had been polished and the alternating aqua shades inside made it look like an ocean torrent.

“That is your soul young one.”

Lance yelped and stood quickly, whipping around to face Kit chuckling behind him. Their paw rested on his shoulder and they steered him to look back at the rock. “It’s my what now?”

Walking him over to the crystal, Kit spoke again, pointing with their paw. “The crystal is how your soul has manifested inside your mind. I have never seen one in my lifetime that is so elementally tied, but none the less, the crystal itself is not necessarily our focus. We are here to fix that.”

Turing to face where they pointed, Lance was suddenly a bit unsure about whether he could do this or not. Clouds of varying colors ranging between white and black, with a majority taking on a gray color floated around the room. Each had one or two tendrils that touched the ground and seemed to slither over to the base of the crystal, growing slightly up the side and holding it in place.

“Those are you memories and their influence over you. Your memories hold up your soul. Without them you are nothing. I believe I have located your problem though.” Together they walked behind the crystal. A deep black cloud took up the entire area, and its tendrils had grown further up the crystal’s back than any other memory. It almost looked like it was poisoning the blue.

Lance stepped forward, reaching out to touch a tendril. “Is that… my memories of the forest?”

“I believe so.” From behind them Kit pulled out a knife that was very familiar to Lance. It was the blade he’d kept from the forest. They gently placed it in his palms and began to instruct him. “You must cut its influence over your mind. Not all of it, or you will forget it entirely, but enough that it is no longer growing over the top of others.”

Lance nodded and got to work, but it didn’t last long. Lance went to cut close to the base of the splotch and nearly screamed as his elbow brushed into the black. He felt himself dip into the memory of running from the Hunk’s hugs, the alpha snapping his arm. Lance fell back as he resurfaced, sweat running down the side of his face. “What was that?”

Kit grabbed a vine and slashed it with their claws. “I told you they were your memories. By touching it you relived a part of it.” They looked at him expectantly. “I would suggest cutting closer to your soul Blue.”

Lance shuffled his way over and began to remove the vines a couple feet away from the crystal. “Blue, eh? Why that name?”

“Blue eyes, Blue soul, and Blue paladin. Seemed to fit.”

Every time he grabbed a vine, feelings of unease and fear passed over him, but those were manageable compared to direct contact. Finally they were down to only two vines left. Though he was tempted to completely cut the experience from his mind he ignored the urges and backed away.

He moved to stand next to Kit as they raised their arms again. “Are you ready?” Lance began to raise his fingers but put them down at the last second.

“Actually, um.” He looked at his shoes, unsure of why he was shy to ask. “Can we stay here for a while longer?” Kit raised a green eyebrow but agreed anyway, following him as he ran off, most likely curious as to what he was doing.

Lance ran around the crystal searching until he found what he was looking for. The whitest cloud he could find looked almost like bleached cotton. It was glowing white against the area’s blue hue, and Lance wasted no time sticking his hand into it.  Lance could have cried as he saw his family running around the beach, blurry but present. As the short memory wrapped itself up Lance saw his mother smile.” He was going to be staying for a while.

* * *

 

Lance stumbled out of the meditation room, shrugging his shirt back on as he met with the rest of the group. Everyone was there and he wasn’t surprised at the first question he was asked by Pidge. “So, did it work? How do you feel? And why do you have paint on your face?” Okay, so it was three questions, but Lance was in a good mood.

Pidge shrieked as Lance scooped her up in a hug under her arms and spun her around. Setting her back on her feet he pulled back and locked eyes. “Thank you, Pidge.”

Pidge muttered something about taking that as a yes as they sat back down and let the others get their questions of how he felt and what was it was like in. Finally they all began to walk back to the ships, and Lance let the others trail ahead of him, motioning for Shiro to fall behind.

“What is it Lance? Are you okay?”

Lance smiled. “I’m a lot better than I’ve been in a while. I wanted to ask you something though. What did you see when you went into your mind? Because Kit said my crystal was kind of an unusual representation of my soul.”

Confusion passed over Shiro’s face. “Crystal? I got taken to my childhood home. Every room was a different set of memories and each item was an individual one. Trav said my soul was the black Kotatsu.”

“Whoa! Really? I just had a giant blue ocean crystal that had black and white clouds of good and bad memories with roots holding it up. The forest was this huge black one and it had taken over like, the entire back half of my soul. Anyway…” Lance rambled to Shiro about his experiences all the way back to the castle, and as he lay back into bed, he thought.

The treatment wasn’t going to permanently fix him. Lance knew that. But he had faith that with continued support and time he could heal. He pulled out an Allura’s Whisper and smoked slowly, taking his time to enjoy the feeling itself rather than for the rushed relief. He wasn’t going to let some bad memories take away his fun, and with his team by his side, Lance knew he could accomplish anything.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Well that's it my dudes! The end to the Nomenclature series. In case anyone was wondering, I based Lance's soul off of blue labradorite. Here's a good pic of it that I used for reference: http://thehealingchest.com/assets/images/blog/broken-heart-healing.jpg
> 
> Thanks to everyone who's stuck with this whole series! Your comments kept me going even when I felt like giving up. It's been an adventure!

**Author's Note:**

> Thanks for reading! Drop a comment or a kudos if you like it!
> 
> After multiple suggestions for a sequel or prequel to my first fic, Nomenclature I've decided to go through with it and write a part two. Come visit me at im-awkward-but-social.tumblr.com!


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